


Atsumu's 2 AM Quest in Masterchef

by JackOfOwlTrades



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Food, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfOwlTrades/pseuds/JackOfOwlTrades
Summary: In which years of being a test tester for his brother has meant that he has a large appetite.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 211





	Atsumu's 2 AM Quest in Masterchef

**Author's Note:**

> This was made in a fit of inspiration after my friends and their cursed midnight kitchen shenanigans. Again, thank you Coco, for letting me scream at you.
> 
> [Edited 3 Nov 2020; made a bad joke, had deleted it]

Atsumu is rolling around his bed. Sakusa is next to him, asleep with the duvet wrapped around him, and resembling a burrito. He opens his bleary eyes and turns to look at the bedside table. 2:04 _am_ blinks back at him. It’s too early, and he wants to go back to sleep. 

He pads toward the kitchen, unsure of his step as he blindly walks around, fingertips scraping the walls. They’ve just moved in together, in a new apartment. He squints as he switches on the lights, and gets to work scourging the bare shelves. 

If he had ever possessed any culinary spirit or talent, it would have probably been transferred to Osamu in the womb. Osamu was the type who could whip up anything and have it presentable. And it always tasted good. That was what he was, creative with his ingredients, and understood Atsumu well enough that he’d be able to produce something to satisfy Atsumu’s cravings. Atsumu would like to think of himself as Osamu’s kitchen muse, the one who’d push him to certain heights. 

~~“Yer more of a leech than a muse.”~~

Now, it’s not unusual for Osamu to have needed a taste tester in the middle of the night, and it had always coincided with his scheduled eating habits. It goes in hand, the fact that his best and most creative dishes were often made in the dead of night, and having Atsumu, his brother, sample them. But what had used to be snacks and little tidbits had transitioned to meals. Which had increased his metabolism along with his appetite

Of course, now with them living separately, he had to rely on his own understanding of what he wanted at this ungodly time, and what to make. 

He looked at the ingredients in front of him. A loaf of sliced bread, a packet of instant noodles and some leftover cheese. Well, this is what his stomach wanted. He jostled around the cabinets for a pot and started boiling the water for his noodles. He placed two slices of bread in the toaster, pushing the lever down, and waited. Once the water was boiling, he placed the noodle in. He flicks the sauce packet around, deciding whether to add it in, but ultimately going against it. He’s not unhappy, so he doesn’t need MSG. 

After toasting his bread and straining the water from his noodles, he started assembling them. Bread at the bottom, shredded cheese, noodles delicately placed, some more cheese and finally bread on top. He admired his work. He was a genius in the kitchen. The culinary brain cells have been stolen from Osamu, and he is finally a chef. Atsumu grabs his phone and sends a picture to him, knowing that he’ll need to see this. 

He places his ten fingers on this sandwich and holds it in front of his face. What a wonderful invention.

Cheesy Noodle Sandwich.

His dearly beloved. A creation made in the early morning. Something that treasured, the-

“Atsumu, I don’t get sleep ‘cause of y’all...”

Atsumu halts and turns around. Sakusa is leaning on the doorway, rubbing his eyes with his long sleeves. Cute.

“‘cause I’m constantly in your mind.” He smirks.

“The pans. The clanging of the pans.”

“...oh.”

“What are you doing? Bed’s cold.”

“Snack.”

“Didn’t you have enough during dinner?” Of course, Atsumu had. They’d gone out to celebrate, and he’d gorged on three bowls of rice and some dessert afterwards. That doesn’t mean he’s going to be fine for the night. 

Sakusa looks at the sandwich in Atsumu’s hand, and his nose wrinkles. The noodles are starting to fall out. “That’s too much carbs. Atsumu, don’t eat the whole thing.”

(Atsumu ate the whole sandwich. He didn’t feel well during practice, and he finally understands Frankenstein and the weight of creating a monster masterpiece.)

_From: Me [2:48]_

_[image attached]_

_Delicious. Finally, some good fucking food._

_From: Upside down Onigiri [5:09]_

_I’m gonna have to stop you right there chief._

_From: Me [7:16]_

_*chef_

===

It’s a few nights after the first incident, and Atsumu wakes up and groans. His stomach is groaning and screaming to be fed. Well, nothing he can do against it. He sneaks out to the kitchen, making sure that he won’t wake up Sakusa. Grumbly Sakusa is endearing, but cranky Sakusa with a lack of sleep is not.

He’ll just try and be quieter in the kitchen this time. Taking considerable care when taking the pan out the cabinet, and gently placing it on the hob. 

Right now, he’s hungry for a full meal. 

So he set himself to look at the kitchen. It’s well-stocked compared to last time; there’s leftover beef, some pickles. The new rice cooker they got for the apartment sits there on the counter.

He places the washed rice in the rice cooker, timer set. Which leaves enough to cook the beef. 

The exhaustion fan is whirring as he gently lowers a slice of beef into the pan. It sizzles, as he slowly adds the rest in the packet and covers the entire surface. 

About half time, he tries to flip the beef to cook the other side. Keyword tries. It seems to be sticking to the pan, so he jabs his chopsticks and starts to scrape the meat with no avail. He curses. The pan starts to smoke, and Atsumu is getting desperate. He starts to jostle the pan. He looks at the other tools in the kitchen.

Metal spatula. It seems like a good idea, but metal on metal would wake Sakusa up via his 6th sense, and come barging into the kitchen with some “knowledgeable words” spoken by Uncle Roger on the horrors of metal on metal, undoing all his efforts on keeping quiet and Sakusa out of the kitchen during this hour. There’s no wooden spoon, as it chipped and they threw it out without replacing it. 

With all hope lost, he starts to panic. The pan is still smoking, and the exhaust fan can only do so much before the smoke detector-

_*beep beep*_

Arms above his head, flailing around as he’s hopping around the kitchen. He’s not sure what he’s doing right now, but it doesn’t calm him down and makes the situation a lot worse. The pan is still smoking, and the noise seems to be getting louder and louder. 

Nope. He’s a 2 am idiot. It was the rice cooker, not the smoke detector. Oh thank goodness. In a rare act of level-headedness, he switches off the hob and starts to scoop up the rice into a bowl. He goes for one more attempt to scrap the beef, and when it doesn’t budge, he gives up and puts the lid on the pan to deter any cockroaches. Morning Atsumu will deal with that problem. 

Right now, he’ll have plain rice with pickles and douse it in pickle juice. Pickle pickle pickle. 

_“Oi Atsumu wake up. Why is there beef stuck to the pan? Did you add oil? Clean the pan you idiot, or get a new one.”_

===

Again, he finds himself in the kitchen. At 2 am. At least this time, he wants a snack. Craving something sweet. 

First stop, the fridge. He scans the shelves, mostly devoid of anything sweet. Well, he’d pretty much cleared a shelf full of desserts and sweets and hasn’t gone to the groceries to restock yet. There’s milk, but it’s not sweet sweet, and he doesn’t want to drink anything. 

The pantry might be good. There he finds some chocolate biscuits and sweets that he’d received from his fans and was allowed to keep under a strict eye by the PR team. He’s had a taste during lunch. Lovely, and sweet, but too delicate and gonna leave a strong aftertaste. Not something that his tongue and stomach want.

He’s already turned his kitchen upside down. And then he looks at the fruit bowl on the counter. He’s found it. Sweet. Delicate. Gonna destroy his mouth. 

Kiwi. 

He was about to grab a knife to cut it in half, but stops and realised something. He’ll have to wash both the knife _and_ the spoon if he does so, and he’s not bothered to do that. So he grabs a plastic spoon and immediately tries to hack the kiwi in half. He gets halfway, till he’s stuck at the middle white part. The hard part of the fruit. He groans. Damn. 

But he’s on a mission; a mission to cut the kiwi in half with a plastic spoon. So he starts going around the white part and just cuts the green flesh. Once he’s cut all the sides, he’s left with the middle of the white, keeping both sides of the kiwi together. Atsumu grabs both ends and starts to turn them in the opposite direction, thinking that twisting it apart was going to be easy.

It was not easy. 

“Ger ferkin’ dern ‘ands _off_ the erther side of kiwi.” He starts putting more strength into his hands, but juice starts to drip out. His hands are now wet and full of kiwi. The juices are threatening to fall on the floor, and he doesn’t want to wipe it up later. 

With the mind of a genius setter, he tilts his head up and starts squeezing the kiwi apart above him, hoping to catch the juices with his mouth. However, it’s not quite like setting a ball, and he realises this as it completely misses the target, and drips onto his nose instead.

He can feel the tension between the kiwi to finally wane, and he’s almost there. He’s strong, he can do it. Almost…

“Miya what are you doing.”

Shocked at hearing his last name, he lets go of the kiwi, and it smooshes onto his face and rolls off to fall onto the floor with a splat. He mourns for the loss of a kiwi, a beloved comrade who was too stubborn to be eaten and accidentally faced the wrath of gravity. 

“I wanted a kiwi.”

“It’s on the floor now.” Sakusa’s face scrunches up, “Wipe it before it gets sticky.”

Sakusa stares at him for a bit longer, as if he was concerned for his well being. Well, he was probably concerned about the floor more than the kiwi and Atsumu’s wailing stomach. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose and then turns around. “Just remember to wipe everything down. I don’t want to see any cockroaches in the kitchen.”

“Yes, yes. I will.”

“Don’t wanna see _any_ cockroaches in the kitchen. That means you as well.”

“Hey!”

===

_“What the fuck are you doing this time?”_

_“Drinking a smoothie.”_

_“Tomato soup.”_

_“Yeah….”_

_“With a plastic straw?”_

_“Found this in the drawer and I didn’t want to wash a spoon.” He pouts. “The water goes sploosh when I wash it under the tap.”_


End file.
